Prosecuting Prodigy: Franziska Von Karma
by kkcaleb13
Summary: Ever wonder how the youngest prosecutor yet got her start? It might be a bit rockier than you think, despite her perfect record... (For anyone who has seen the picture of the fan-made box art and wishes that Capcom would do this, this one is for you guys. Also, anybody who likes the Ace Attorney Series.)
1. Intro: Note from Author

**DISCLAIMER:**

 **I DO NOT OWN ACE ATTORNEY.**

 **NOTHING WRITTEN HERE IS CANNON.**

 **HEADCANNON IS TOTALLY OPTIONAL FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO LIKE THIS, THOUGH. ROCK ON.**

* * *

If you just want to get to the story, go ahead and skip this little tidbit. This is for people who want to know about the author, what to expect out of this, and for those of you who may have questions ahead of time. (If you already read the story, feel free to come back to this.)

Yes, I am going to continually work on this and finish it (God-willing.)

No, I am not an encyclopedia of knowledge on these games and sometimes I make 'mistakes', even though the events of this are non-canonical and that doesn't really do much (though I will consult an encyclopedia of knowledge called the internet to help me out) but if you see one that bothers you, leave a review. I'll do my best to address it.

Yes, I am a HUGE fan of the series so I'm doing this because I'm a gigantic nerd and I love writing (You would be surprised how hard this is to explain sometimes.)

No, this story does not stick only to the original cast of the Ace Attorney Series (I love the characters, but there's only so much to work with there), but I will work them in as much as possible when they should be there (A.K.A. the bumbling detective is Gumshoe, the exceedingly-intelligent one that does everything right is not him).

Yes, leaving me a review in any form, shape, or fashion will help me get going on this, even when it seems like I'm taking forever to get a single chapter done.

No, I won't promise deadlines that I can't be sure to make (I tried that once, it didn't help. In fact, it made me worse at this), I am a man, not a machine. It'll get done as soon as I can get it done and writing isn't something you can just do. Sometimes it's easy, sometimes you spend three months before you realize you're writing absolute crap. It's hard. If you want better, go ahead, write it, and leave me a title so I can look it up on this side and read it (For reals, though, aspiring writers, you want a little feedback, I'm honest. I understand it's tough to hear that something you made that is so precious needs work, but when you hear it, you fix it, and it gets even better. That's why people need haters, it gives them a gauge for what they do and how they can take it to the next level and get more haters.)

If you made it through all that, thank you for sticking around. Not everybody does. I know what it's like to get to the end of a great story and feel a little emptiness in your heart because you want more, but you know there's nothing there. That's why I love this site.

There's more.

There's people who work for no pay because they want there to be more. They take a lot of crap from people who don't get it or people who just want to drag them down.

I'm sorry if I'm getting a little preachy, but for reals, writers got it harsh. They have to make a world out of nothing, and most people just brush right past that without a second thought. Here, it's a little easier, because we get some starting points, but still, to look at something like that and get everything out of that... reading is deep. I know it, that's why I'm doing this.

So thank you for reading this, and I truly, sincerely hope you enjoy...

 ** _Prosecuting Prodigy: Franziska von Karma!_**


	2. Case 1: The Perfect Start

Case 1:

A Perfect Start

Sometimes people make mistakes.

Things happen that they never intended, and people get hurt.

As they try to cover it up, things fall apart faster, and even more people suffer as a result.

Until they can suffer no more.

That's when things spiral into a raging chaos.

Yet even that ends, leaving only silence.

"Clark…!"

"I'm sorry… forgive me, Betty…"

* * *

-Location: Court House, Lobby 4—

-Date: September 14th, 2013—

-Time: 4:26 P.M.-

Franziska was standing with her arms folded and her brow furrowed as she looked up at the clock, "Late… you'd best have a good excuse for this, Miles Edgeworth…"

Edgeworth, as if on cue, opened the door and walked calmly through the door, "Sorry if I kept you waiting-"

Franziska cut him off as she whipped him with her riding crop, "Fool! How dare you show up late to my first trial! It's bad enough that Papa was too busy to grace us with his presence, but you, Miles Edgeworth have no proper reason to be tardy! Do you care to offer up an explanation for yourself? Be wary, should you provide any foolish sort of foolishness, I'll whip your foolishly foolish mouth shut."

Edgeworth decided that his newfound, and admittedly guilty pleasure found watching a new show about a man with steel skin following the code of bushido was not the proper excuse to offer. Even if it was true, "A bit of car trouble, I'm lucky that I didn't swerve off the road on my way here."

Franziska lowered her riding crop, "Humph. Fine. Jeopardizing your life is a foolish move that only you would have done. Next time, have a backup plan and try to take a bus at an earlier time. You've earned yourself a reprieve as my assistant today."

Edgeworth was happy to see his cool wits had once again save his life, "How lucky I am… Remind me, Franziska, the details of the case as you know them. Nothing too specific, I would want to miss your first court performance. Just the outline will do."

Franziska whipped him again, "Fool! I am in charge today and I will feed you whatever information I feel is necessary for your feeble mind to comprehend. You'd do well to remember that today, you are not the prosecutor."

 _"_ _Should I even bother reminding her I'm here to help her?"_ Edgeworth wondered to himself.

"Now, as for the generals. The victim was a woman known as Betty Blanche, she was found dead in her home precisely four days ago when a friend came to check on her. Her husband, Clark Blanche was on the border between France and Italy when Interpol picked him up. Turns out that Clark's real name is Giovanni Moldova, the head of the Moldova drug syndicate that was stationed here in Los Angeles. The U.S. government demanded he be brought back to face trial for those charges, but Interpol didn't agree to let it happen unless he was tried for his wife's murder first. Thus making your tardiness even more inexcusable since the court is so close to your foolish little office."

Edgeworth nodded, "I see… so your first trial is a murder trial. How was the investigation?"

Franziska decided that she would NOT be mentioning how the smell of the decaying body almost caused her to relieve herself of her previous meal, "Swimmingly. It would appear that the detective assigned to the case was incredibly competent. I know that you struggle with the idea such an officer could exist, but I assure you, Detective Brass is quite intelligent. He knew exactly what to bring me when I asked for it."

Edgeworth raised his eyebrow. A competent detective would certainly be interesting to see, "I suspect that you've already prepared him properly for his cross-examination?"

"Ha! As if I would foolishly forget something so important! Of course I have."

Edgeworth examined his watch, "Well then, we should go ahead and take the stand. No need to delay a trial that's so well prepared. I hope your execution is as good as your forethought."

Franziska waved her hand, "Naturally, as in all aspects of my cases, it will be perfect."

Edgeworth was more worried about the defense attorney than anything else. What could an ex-crime boss conjure up? Edgeworth wasn't expecting the case to go as smoothly as Franziska did.

* * *

-Location: Courtroom #4-

\- Date: September 14th, 2013-

-Time: 4:37 P.M.-

The court was abuzz with chatter, as it always was before a trial began. Franziska tapped her finger against her arm impatiently as she looked across the room to the empty defense stand. Edgeworth took notice of Franziska's impatience, "Calm down, Franziska, if the defense doesn't show, it means that the defendant will simply have no defense. Wouldn't that make this trial go much smoother?"

Franziska was not having any of his kind words, "No. I came to crush a defense attorney. Not a man who knows nothing of the law. A first year law student could do that. I want a REAL trial and I'll not be satisfied until I do. You've no room to judge, as I recall your first trial HAD a defense. An incompetent buffoon you easily crushed, but a defense nonetheless."

The judge walked to his seat and sat down, "Now, we will begin the trial of Giovanni Moldova. Is the prosecution ready?"

Franziska held her left hand out, "Perfectly prepared and punctual, your Honor."

Edgeworth was silent, he did not recognize the judge and this was a bit bothersome for him. He had learned the hard way that the wrong judge in the wrong trial could make things increasingly difficult. It was not a lesson he thought would sit well or be conveyed easily to Franziska, especially on her first case.

The judge nodded, "Good. And the defense?"

The room was silent for a long moment before the doors to the courtroom flew open. In the open doorway was a thin man with neat black hair, small brown eyes, and a pair of wire-rim glasses to go with his black suit. He cleared his throat and flattened his tie with his hand as he walked over to the defense's bench, "Apologies for cutting it so close, your honor. It would appear that someone siphoned my gasoline this morning, and I was forced to find a taxi to get here. It was a surprisingly pleasant ride, but I would not recommend risking tardiness for it. We've a trial to take care of, and it would be pleasant if we could keep it on schedule. Without further ado, the defense is ready, your Honor."

The judge nodded, "Mr. Shields, I was unaware you worked both jury and inquisition law trials."

Mr. Shields took a small bow, "Always nice to know my reputation precedes me. Today will be my second inquisition law trial, your Honor. I do hope this one goes as well as the last one did."

Franziska raised an eyebrow, "Jury?"

Edgeworth cleared his throat quietly, "It's a system of law that selects random citizens to declare whether a defendant is innocent or guilty."

Franziska shuddered at the thought of ignorant commoners attempting to follow her logic, "Ugh. How vile."

Edgeworth's brow furrowed as he eyed Shields, "Yes, it takes a man who can manipulate both the feeblest and the strongest of minds to prevail in such a court. Today, however, he's not given a jury. Today he has the judge, and he has to face you."

Franziska crossed her arms, "Indeed he does."

The judge looked down, "Will the defendant please state his name and occupation?"

On the defendant's stand, a man in an orange suit with chains on his wrists looked up. His rugged face and sleek hair screamed sketchy, while his deep, gravelly voice was somehow more unnerving than soothing, "Giovanni Moldova. I'm a businessman."

The judge looked to Franziska, "Will the prosecution please state the facts of the case?"

Franziska did a curtsy, "Of course. The victim, Betty Blanche, was found dead in her home. Two days later, the police arrived at her home after a friend of hers worriedly went to check on her using a spare key that the victim had given her. The friend then made a call to the police and they shortly arrived on the scene. Hoping to find a witness, they discovered that the defendant was fleeing the country, along with his DNA at the crime scene in the form of a few hairs."

The judge squinted, "Hm… will the prosecution now make its opening statement?"

"Naturally. The defendant murdered the victim by strangling her. Though the scene initially appeared to be a suicide, further examination throws that possibility out the window. Seeing as the witness, the friend of the victim, was out of the country at the time of the murder, nobody else had the means to enter the house without leaving some mark on a lock or breaking a window, the only logical conclusion is that the defendant did the deed." Franziska leaned forward and placed her chin on her hands, "Of course, the defendant, who is facing the death penalty, disagrees despite how perfectly logical this all is."

The defense smirked, "Watch yourself, miss Von Karma. Self-praise and pointed statements can cost you if you aren't careful. This is a trial, not an IQ test for you to show off your English skills. The guilt of the defendant has yet to be determined."

Franziska was considering throwing her riding crop when the judge nodded, "I will let it slide just this once, since you are a new prosecutor, but I will not tolerate haughty arrogance in this courtroom, miss Von Karma. Next time it will be a penalty."

Edgeworth grabbed her elbow behind the counter, to remind her that if she wanted to win, she couldn't let her ego beat her. Franziska pulled away from him before giving the judge a smile, "My apologies, your Honor. I will choose my words more carefully in the future."

The judge looked to Mr. Shields, "Now, the defense will make its case."

Shields nodded, "Thank you, your honor. The defense pleads not guilty to the charge of murder. You see, what has happened here is a misunderstanding. My client did not murder his wife, he merely found her to be dead. As tragic as it is, this is nothing more than a suicide. As you would expect, my client has many enemies. When he found a threat against him and his wife, he made plans to leave. Upon learning who he really was, she could not live with the thought of loving what she perceived to be a monster, knowing she had lain with someone who allegedly murdered hundreds of people was too much for her to bare. As for the DNA evidence, it was found within the man's own home. It would be more concerning if his hair wasn't found at the scene, making this bit of evidence circumstantial at best."

The judge nodded, "Now that both sides have made their opening statement, the prosecution may call its first witness."

Franziska nodded, "Yes, your Honor. The prosecution calls detective Ryun N. Hyde to the stand."

Taking the stand was a very large and very muscular man with dark skin, wearing a police uniform and a comically small hat atop his head. Towering over almost everyone in the room, it was clear that his name just might have indicated what criminals did in his presence. Even his voice was boomingly commanding, despite being at the level of sound normal conversation was, "Reporting in."

The judge eyed the witness, "Your name and occupation, please."

Hyde nodded, "Detective Hyde, your honor. I work for Interpol as the head of the murder division. If a body crosses a border or a killer tries to hide his trail across two countries, it's my job to track him down."

Franziska pointed at him, remembering to ask questions for the witness to answer instead of wording his answers for him, "Why were you involved with this case?"

"Killer was caught trying to cross the border. His car didn't have a breathalyzer in it, so he was pulled over. I was informed of the situation and I took over the investigation."

"Describe the scene of the crime as you found it."

Hyde crossed his arms, "It looked pretty simple at first. The body was hanging from a rope tied to the beam, the chair her feet should have been standing on was kicked over. There was a note with her handwriting on it explaining why she did it. I was starting to wonder why they bothered to arrest the guy when I noticed something odd on the floor."

"How so?"

"The scuff marks on the floor."

Shields raised his eyebrow, "What scuff marks? I didn't see any in the photos of the scene."

"Exactly. If you're standing on a chair and you then push it back with the intent to keep it out of reach, you aren't gentle with it. I've seen enough scenes like that people with that in mind have a tendency to make sure the job gets done with a good, hard kick. That way there's no chance it'll fall back into place. So then I started looking for other signs that it may have been foul play."

"So, let me get this straight, with no concrete evidence that it was not a suicide, you decided to investigate as though it was a homicide?"

Edgeworth noticed the vein starting to pop in Franziska's forehead, "If you want to shut him up, use your evidence. It's more satisfying to force him into a silence he can't refute."

Franziska tightened her grip on her crop, "Hold it! Andrew Shields, you'd do well not to badger my witness. Ryun Nick Hyde always keep a very orderly statement of the facts which he is constantly filling out, as well as his investigation procedures, which are right here as a matter of fact."

The judge nodded as he looked at the huge journal, "That looks like a very thorough set of notes."

Franziska smiled as she waved her finger, "This is but one of many, many journals that Detective Hyde has worked on over the years. If you think this one full notebook is impressive, you should see the stacks he's got in storage. Anyway, in this particular journal, it isn't until a certain piece of evidence is discovered that the case official shifts from a suicide to a homicide case. So if you were going to claim that detective Hyde had it out for the defendant, you'd better have much more than a suggestive tone, Andrew Shields."

Shields bit his tongue, "I wouldn't dream of it, miss Von Karma. So, detective, do tell, what was the evidence that convinced you that this case couldn't be a suicide? From what I understand, there's no evidence that I can see that conclusively proves the defendant's guilt."

Hyde nodded, "Well, that part is obvious. Sure, the rope used was accessible to the victim, and there were no signs to indicate anyone broke into the house, but there's one nagging detail that conflicted with the defendant's statement. It was this lie that was his undoing."

Shields slammed his hand on the counter, "Out with it, man! What was it?"

"The defendant stated that the victim committed suicide because of what she saw in a letter that was addressed to their house. While it's true that the victim's fingerprints were on the envelope, they were not on the letter or the photographs that came in that envelope. Only the defendant's prints were found on those."

"So? The defendant held the letter and the photographs after the victim handed them to him. It lines up with his statement perfectly."

"OBJECTION!" The court was silenced as everyone in the room turned to look at the bluenette with her finger outstretched. Franziska now understood why the dramatic gesture was so often used by Miles. It was simply a delightful start to a perfectly planned offense, "That argument would hold water… if the victim were capable of reading that letter or making out what was visible on those photographs."

Shields felt a bead of sweat on his brow, "What?"

Franziska pulled a sheet of paper from her files, "What I hold here are two statements obtained during the investigation, while it was still a suicide investigation, no less. The first is a statement from the victim's friend, who recalled that she was meeting up with the victim to help her buy a new pair of glasses, since her old ones had recently been broken and she was out of contacts. In and of itself, all this says is that the victim's eyesight is in question. However, the second statement is from the victim's optometrist. This one says, and I quote, "Miss Blanche's far-sightedness keeps her from being able to read anything within her arm's reach. If the letters are on a piece of paper, there's no reason to think she could read them. At regular size, the paper would need to be too far away from her face to make the letters out, but at that distance, she wouldn't be able to read the letters, anyway. Any images less than half a meter in size would also be unrecognizable." So you see… there's no way she could possibly have been distraught over the letter or the pictures." Franziska slammed her hands against the counter, "Because she couldn't have known what was on them!"

Shields felt the color drain from his face, "Hold it! This evidence was not in the court record! Why was I not informed of this?!"

Franziska raised her eyebrow, "Oh? Was it not? It was a part of detective Hyde's records."

Edgeworth smirked, "Slipping in evidence unnoticed… nice touch. I'm sure that you're ready to put the final nails in the coffin. Just prove he was there when she died and that he had reason to kill her and you're done."

"Consider it done." Franziska scoffed, "Regardless of your lax sense of awareness, Andrew Shields, the fact remains that the witness lied, casting suspicion upon his statements and the legitimacy of the suicide note. After all, if it was impossible for the victim to know what was on the letter, why would she kill herself over it? To her, it may as well have been a blank sheet of paper."

Shields gritted his teeth, "So just because it's less likely that she would have killed herself, that automatically means that her husband killed her? That's a stretch and you know it."

"Oh, is it? Your honor, the prosecution would like to submit a new piece of evidence discovered this morning." Franziska held up a pair of rubber gloves with a bit of dirt on the fingertips, "This pair of gloves was discovered along the highway where the defendant was driving on his way out of the country. Upon inspection, the insides contain the defendant's fingerprints and the outside has both traces of dirt from the victim's garden and fibers found in the rope that was used to hang the victim."

Shields leaned forward, "So he threw out an old pair of gloves. So what? Need I remind you that the rope was already in use to hang up a potted plant? There's nothing indicating these gloves are relevant to the death of the victim."

The judge squinted at Franziska, "Miss Von Karma, he has a point. Unless there is a link that establishes their involvement, I can't accept them as evidence."

Franziska smirked, "Then may I point your attention to this?" She flipped the bag around to reveal a very tiny smudge of red on the wrist portion of the glove. It was very small, barely visible, but it was there, "This here? This little smudge tells quite the tragic story."

"Is it blood?" The judge asked wide-eyed.

"No, it's lipstick. From the victim's lips, no less. Her DNA was found in it. Luckily, the victim had just opened a brand new pack of lipstick. Since her first day wearing this particular brand was also her last, it seems highly likely that the defendant would want to get rid of these particulars gloves if he, say… used them to hang his wife?"

"OBJECTION!" Shields shouted, "This is not definitive proof. This is a possibility, the prosecution said so herself. It seems 'highly likely'. I didn't hear 'it isn't possible he didn't'. This is conjecture, your honor, nothing more. For all we know, she could have given him a kiss good morning before he was on his way to fix something in the garden. You've no substantial evidence to prove they were used for this!"

Franziska's eyebrow was starting to twitch until Edgeworth cleared his throat, "Franziska, it appears that Shields has forgotten where he stands. Why don't you give him a reminder about who needs to prove what?"

Franziska smirked, "Andrew Shields, it appears you've forgotten what is going on. The proof of the prosecution is that there was nobody else to commit the murder. This evidence only heightens the chance of the only possible suspect being the culprit. Tell me, my case is nearly at 100% probable. Your job is to prove the 0% chance of your case being solid is right. Can you do this?"

Shields gritted his teeth, "Fine. You want proof? So do I. The chances that the victim wrote the letter is low. The odds that this glove is unrelated is low. But those odds exist, and unless you can crush them, we aren't done here. I haven't shown any definite proof, but neither have you. Care to tip the odds, miss Von Karma?"

Edgeworth turned to Franziska, "He's right. He's grasping at straws for breathing room, but he's right. I'm certain that you can prove that this was a murder and not a suicide. The moment you prove suicide is off the table, his case falls apart. No amount of talking will get him out of it."

Franziska pulled out the other file from her folder, "It is funny, the way a foolish fool foolishly dares a superior opponent to crush him in his foolish foolery. Perhaps you have read the autopsy report?"

"And I'm the fool?" Shields scoffed, "The victim died from being hung and had no defensive wounds. Tell me, does the lack of defensive wounds support your case? Because if someone was going to try to hang me by my neck until I croaked, I would fight back. And it would take enough force to at least leave a wound on me, and I would make SURE to leave a wound on my killer. Which, might I point out, my client does not have. Tell me, can you fight a woman into submission without leaving a mark on her? The only way I see it, this detail is proof that she hung herself. It's sad, but it's the only thing that makes sense."

"OBJECTION!" Franziska waved her finger to the beat of her 'tsk', "Tsk, tsk, tsk. How foolishly a fool flounders. I mean the _updated_ autopsy report."

The judge raised his eyebrow, "Updated?"

Franziska nodded, "While a detective as meticulous as Hyde does everything within his power to think ahead, even he cannot forgo time. Thus, the thorough chemical testing done on the body took too long to get to court before this morning, as I only received it this morning. Your honor, would you please check the substance found in the victim's system?"

"It says… Hydroethelchloritryptaphine? That's a mouthful."

"It's also a soporific. Odorless, tasteless, colorless. It's perfect to turn a person into a sleeping log that cannot be woken. It would certainly explain the lack of defensive wounds anywhere. Tell me, Andrew Shields, when you are drugged unconscious, do you still fight back? BECAUSE I HIGHLY DOUBT YOU DO!"

Shields glasses cracked as he tried to retain his composure, "W-Waaaaah?!"

Franziska smirked, "Tell me, Mr. Shields, do you have any evidence to refute this? With as much of the soporific as there was in her system, consciousness is impossible, let alone suicide."

Edgeworth squinted as he watched Shields, "Careful. He's cornered. This is where defense attorneys get dangerous."

"HOLD IT!" The room grew quit as the shout came not from the defense…

… but from the defendant, "You gave it a good try, Shields."

Shields shook his head, "Disregard my client's comments!"

"You're fired." Moldova said with absolution, "Now that I'm representing myself, I'd like to admit my guilt. But… on one condition."

Franziska crossed her arms, "I have no need of your admission to prosecute you, but I am intrigued you would think I would desire it in exchange for something. What is your price?"

Moldova's face became solemn and sad, "That my admission of guilt is put on the record."

The judge nodded, "It will be, as part of the court record."

Moldova cleared his throat, "My family… are not good people. Anyone associated with them either ends up a part of their trade or a victim of it. I don't care if nobody believes I don't run it or that I want no part of it… but it's a fact that I never wanted Betty to be caught up in it. Betty… was my life. When I finally got away from my old name, those people who claim it was my 'responsibility as the heir' to commit the crimes they asked me to… she reminded me that there was some good in the world. So when that letter came in… and I saw photos of what they would do to her… what they would put her through… I couldn't bare it. Betty didn't deserve that. Betty deserved to die with dignity, and painlessly. That's why I drugged her with the best stuff I could find. It would make sure she didn't wake up. Betty…" A tear escaped his eye, "… you saw so much light in the world… you could even see it in me… but I guess it's gone now… If you're looking down on me from up there with wings on your back, I'm sorry… I don't think I'll have anything but a pair of horns when that time comes…"

The judge held his eyes shut as he lifted his gavel, "I've heard enough. I declare the defendant, Giovanni Moldova… GUILTY. Court is adjourned."

* * *

-Location: Courthouse, Lobby 4—

-Date: September 14th, 2013—

-Time: 7:29 P.M.-

Deep down, Franziska thought it was sweet that his last words as a free man were an apology to his wife, but on the surface, she could only show her satisfaction for her victory, "What did I tell you, Miles Edgeworth? Perfect. Even the defendant could see how foolish resisting the inevitable was."

Edgeworth shook his head, "And here I thought you were going to show me something new."

Franziska whipped him, "Fool! Your execution of revealing the autopsy report is sloppy. You merely use it to counter a single point. I used it to erase the case the defense had built from the very start. To watch a skyscraper fall is much more satisfying and memorable than simply knocking over a single-story house. To crush out hope is wiser than to give it a new place to run."

Edgeworth was recovering from his whipping, "A-Anyway… defendants don't usually confess. Don't expect it to be that easy."

Franziska looked to the side as she entered the hallway, expecting to see her sentenced man and instead seeing a young man that appeared to be a year or so older than her. He was in a sharp, grey suit and his curly, red hair was all over the place. He looked far too happy with his crystal blue eyes peeking out of his black glasses. Franziska grabbed Edgeworth's arm, "Who is that?"

Edgeworth rubbed his chin, "Hm… I don't know. He looks somewhat familiar…"

Franziska thought his foolish smile displayed a foolishly foolish grin that only a fool would wear… but he also looked a bit cute, with his little nose and his round shoes, "Go ask him what his name is."

"Why do I have to-"

Franziska flexed her riding crop, "Do it."

Edgeworth walked over to the young man and touched his shoulder, "Ahem, I'm sorry, do I know you?"

The boy looked up at him, "I believe I saw you once in passing. You were the prosecutor on a case that day, if I remember correctly… I don't remember the details, I was on my way to my first case. I'm Che, by the way. I'm a defense attorney."

"What are you doing here? The lobby is in use right now, you know that, right?"

Che nodded, "Yes. Giovanni Moldova is in there. He needs a defense attorney for his second trial today. You weren't the prosecutor for his murder trial today, were you? I was hoping to watch, but the bailiff wouldn't let me in because he 'wasn't my client yet'. I know that Moldova isn't the most popular guy, but does everybody have to be a jerk to his new attorney?"

"Wait… you're going to be his attorney for his trial pressing the charges of crimes against humanity?" Edgeworth suddenly was baffled by the boy's smile, "You are aware of all the evidence stacked against him, right? Word was that Shields wasn't going to take the case because he said that no American jury would ever acquit someone like that. How are you planning to convince _anyone_ that he's innocent?"

Che put his finger over his lips, "I can't say, otherwise it won't work. Besides, I can't just get him acquitted once. I have to do it once for all six nations charging him, including three with an inquisitor style of court system."

Edgeworth blinked twice, "You seriously intend to defend him… six times… and you intend to win every case?"

Che nodded, "Of course. He's innocent."

Edgeworth blinked again, then walked away without another word. When he stood next to Franziska, he was certain that she'd sent him to his death, "Pretend you never saw him and if Manfred asks, I never spoke to him. Associating with a man like that will bring the two of us nothing but misery. Forget you ever saw him."

Franziska knew that Edgeworth wasn't one to mess around when it came to her father, but she wondered why he was so afraid of the boy. It would be a while before she came to see why Edgeworth was so concerned.

And even longer before she realized he was wrong.

* * *

-Location: Franziska's Office—

-Date: September 14th, 2027—

-Time: 12:01 P.M.—

Franziska sighed as she opened a binder and found a newspaper titled " _Defense Attorney Proves Innocence of Long-Thought Mob Boss Giovanni Moldova for the 6_ _th_ _time, Officially Clearing his Name of all but One Crime_ ". She looked at the photo of the bright-eyed boy with a wistful smile… until a phone call interrupted her moment. She answered it, her tone displaying her irritation, "Who is this?"

"Franziska… we've got him."

Franziska remembered the voice, it was the sharp tongue of a man with even sharper teeth, "Detective Shi-Long Lang? What are you talking about? We haven't had a case together in a long time."

Lang had no air of mystery or authority to him, something so odd it shocked Franziska half as much as his response did, "Che. We found him and we're bringing him to your office tomorrow. He's seen better days, but he's coherent. But there's uh… something you should know."

Franziska felt so many emotions running through her mind that she didn't know what to do, "W-What?"

"He… Franziska, the second we found him, he begged to see you. He wouldn't say anything else, he just kept asking if he could see Franziska von Karma."

Franziska felt herself blush, "O-Oh… I s-see."

"But we need him to talk. We found him… in one of the Moldova shipping crates. Franziska, according to our information, he was being shipped to his sixth client."

There was nothing but violent horror going through her mind, "S-Sixth…?"

"It's a miracle that he survived. We have agents on him, watch your back. You know how much the Moldova hate to let go of anything. I have to go now, but yeah, we're bringing him home."

Franziska wasn't sure if she was excited or scared.

All she could think of was the first time she'd spoken to him… all those years ago.


	3. Case 2: A Perfect Storm (Pt 1)

Case 2:

A Perfect Storm

Have you ever been afraid for your life?

Felt the cold air of death as it goes up your spine, forcing you to face your mortality?

The endless nothingness that creeps into your mind, leaving your life empty?

That fear… it pierces all logical thought and leaves a person with only one thought.

Avoid death. At all costs.

The phone rang twice before the line picked up, "Hello, you've reached the law offices of Anders & Co., how may I help you today?"

"I need to speak with Che, please."

"One moment, I'll connect you."

A few seconds later, the line picked up again, "You've reached Che, how may I help you today?"

"Che… I need a lawyer."

Che paused, "Darrian…?"

"Please."

Che swallowed, "O-Okay… tell me what happened…"

Darrian swallowed hard, it was going to be hard to keep his story straight.

* * *

-Location: Courthouse, Lobby 4-

-Date: June 20th, 2014-

-Time: 12:18 P.M.—

Franziska sat in the hallway impatiently. Despite the fact she had a solid case and the luck to have a competent detective in Mr. Hyde, she'd gotten nearly nothing out of the defendant when she went to question him. The boy that she'd had a passing crush on had thoroughly earned her respect, as Che's five minutes of prep managed to get the defendant to remain silent for over 5 hours of questioning. Not even the most hardened of criminals she'd met were capable of keeping quiet that long.

Che was good at keeping his clients in line.

Franziska was as frustrated as she was impressed.

The only thing that irritated her more was the fact she had to wait for the cleaning lady to finish doing her job before she could enter the lobby. This little annoyance, however, seemed to be a blessing in disguise, as a red head with lonely blue eyes stepped out of the defense lobby just a few steps away. Franziska felt her heart flutter as she watched him sigh. Her heart beat even faster as he took a seat beside her. He then looked to her, "You having a good day?"

Franziska forgot about everything that was making her angry, "It's going fairly well, I'd say. Yourself?"

Che shook his head, causing his adorable curls to shift around, "Well… I'd say I'd had rougher days, but I don't want to dare the day to get worse."

"Tough case?"

Che nodded, "Yes. The case starts in about twenty minutes if it doesn't get delayed."

"O-Oh." Franziska said, disheartened, "I believe I am the prosecutor in that case. It's in court number four, right?"

Che sighed again, "Yeah… it is. Franziska Von Karma, was it? I'm Che. Looks like we'll be facing off in court today."

Franziska put on a brave face to hide her sadness, "Yes, we will."

Che stood up, his smile falling to the wayside to reveal a serious glare, "Please, don't take this as an offense towards your skills, I've heard a great deal about your cases and honestly, if half the things I've heard are true, you're an amazing prosecutor. But today… if you want to win, I'm sorry to say I won't be letting up. I know that I've made plea deals in the past because it was my client's best option, but that's not going to happen… not with this case. My client has his mind made up and so do I. I'll fight you to the bitter end on this one."

Franziska folded her arms, "I intend to do the same."

Che nodded, "I promise, I'm not usually such a… monster. It's nothing personal and I'm very sorry you have to be on the receiving end of it."

Franziska then watched as he walked away. She wondered what he could mean by that. He seemed so innocent… could there really be such a beast lurking behind those kind eyes?

"Ma'am, the lobby is clean. You may enter now."

Franziska was so lost in thought that she didn't hear the woman with the rag. Her trance was fixed until a certain familiar voice snapped her out of it, "Franziska? We're going to be late, what are you doing?"

Franziska looked up at him, "I am thinking, Miles Edgeworth. You'd do well to try it some time. Come now, the cleaning lady is done and we can go inside."

Edgeworth followed her silently as he thought to himself, " _I was worried she might be distracted… somebody please tell me that I'm wrong about this…_ "

* * *

-Location: Courtroom #4-

-Date: June 20th, 2014-

-Time: 12:37-

Things were oddly quiet in the courtroom.

The people spectating were quiet, not even the reporters were scribbling.

Franziska and Edgeworth hadn't even noticed the judge walking in as they looked across the room at Che. The judge forgot about opening introductions as he looked across the room at Che.

The spectators and the judge, who all knew Che, knew that the brooding he appeared to be doing with his eyes closed and his curly hair in front of his eyes was very uncharacteristic of him. Che was normally standing upright with a bright look in his eyes and his hair parted for all to see his piercingly pure gaze. Edgeworth and Franziska were just surprised at how inaccurate they found his reputation to be.

Che finally moved his hair out of his eyes and cleared his throat, "Ahem, your honor, I hate to be rude, but should we go ahead and start the trial now?"

The judge blinked, widening his eyes, "O-Of course. I was just thinking that you seem a bit off today, Che."

The only part of his face that moved was his mouth, the rest of his body weighed in place by the seriousness of his voice, "How I feel is irrelevant, your Honor. I have a job to do. That said, I hope you're having a pleasant day so far."

The judge nodded with a tiny smile, "Actually, I am. My fortune this morning said that I would have good luck, and there was no traffic today!"

Che finally cracked a smile, "Good to hear, your Honor. Always good to know that justice moves unimpeded."

The judge's smile grew as his memory of the defense attorney proved again to be consistent, "Thank you, Che. Now, it's time for the trial to begin. Would the defendant please state their name and occupation?"

The man at the defendant's stand smiled confidently, his rippling muscles and good looks obviously adding to his already high level of self-esteem, "My name is Darren Back, I'm an artist by trade, maybe you've seen some of my work on-"

Che cut him off with a very loud and equally deadly tone, "Thank you, defendant, for not wasting time with extraneous details."

The judge nodded, "R-Right. Straight to the point, no nonsense, the way a trial should be."

Edgeworth felt his eye twitch as he knew the judge very well, _"_ _What the…? You were swooning over a teenager in one of my cases, if I recall! How can you claim 'no nonsense'?!"_

"Will the prosecution please make their opening statement?"

Franziska nodded, "Of course. The defendant is being charged with the murder of Cole V. Bean. Mr. Bean was a well-known art collector who had recently acquired two of the defendant's paintings. The murder occurred within the victim's home, which, due to the expensive artwork in his home, is covered in security cameras. The cameras reveal that nobody exited the mansion in the time it took for the victim to die. The autopsy reveals that he died from a single stab wound to the chest. This, however, is merely the tip of the iceberg that is the damning evidence in this case."

The judge nodded, "Oh my. Will the defense now make their opening statement?"

Che's smile turned at that moment. It wasn't one of pleasant wishes or naive innocence, it was a sinister and vile grin. His calm demeanor only made it all the more intimidating, "Yes, sir. The defendant is many things, but not a murderer. The prosecution is operating under a single flawed assumption that it has yet to notice. Once it has laid out all the facts and I have carefully checked them, the truth will become clear."

The judge was wide-eyed and too spooked to comment on the brevity and ambiguousness of the statement, "T-The prosecution may now call its first witness…"

Franziska was frozen in place as she was horrified by the demonically intimidating grin.

Edgeworth nudged her, "F-Franziska… don't let him get to you. It's a bluff."

 _"_ _Then why are YOU shaking?!"_ Franziska thought to herself. She took a deep breath before strengthening her resolve, "For its first witness, the prosecution calls detective Ryun N. Hyde to the stand."

Hyde walked through the doors and took the stand with his usual gaze. That was, until he made eye contact with Che. That's when the blood drained from his face and Hyde looked like he was about to prove his namesake was for him and not others, "Y-Y-You?!"

Che's smile widened a bit and twisted a bit more, "Detective Hyde, what a pleasure. The last time I saw you was Giovanni's third case, if I remember correctly. Are you doing well?"

Hyde was thoroughly scared, something easily found by the look on his face. Edgeworth nudged Franziska, "Don't let him intimidate your witness!"

"HOLD IT!" Franziska shouted, "Defense, cease your badgering of my witness!"

Che folded his hands under his chin, "I'm not badgering him. Merely saying hello. I'll wait for the cross-examination, though. My apologies for the detour, your Honor."

The judge nodded, "Apology accepted. If the witness would please state his name and occupation."

Hyde shivered, "Ryun N. Hyde, I'm a detective for Interpol. Head of the murder division."

Franziska nodded, "Now, would you please inform the court as to your relation to this case?"

Hyde shook off his fear for a moment, "Yes. I received a call from a colleague that I was needed for an investigation. All of my notes have been submitted into evidence for your reading pleasure, along with the murder weapon, a knife that was part of the set from the kitchen of the mansion. Also, the security footage confirms that nobody entered or exited the house at the time of the murder. If you put all these things together, it becomes very obvious that nobody else could be the killer."

"Perfectly said."

The judge rubbed his beard, "Sounds solid to me… the defense may now perform its cross-examination."

Che raised his eyebrow, "The call… what did your colleague say, exactly?"

"A tip was received that a possible art smuggler had been murdered in his home."

"OBJECTION!" Franziska shouted, "What does it matter? What does the phrasing of a call have to do with the man's death?"

"HOLD IT!" Che shouted, finger extended, "It matters… if they said who called it in."

Hyde gritted his teeth, "T-They did…"

Franziska felt sweat dropping as Che grinned calmly, "So… enlighten us, who tipped this colleague of yours off?"

Hyde groaned, "It was… the defendant."

The judge's eyes went wide, "WHAT?!"

Che's grin grew at the same rate of Franziska's despair, "I would say that detail is relevant. Regarding your notes and the murder weapon, it says here that you initially started the investigation as a suicide? And that you found the defendant's fingerprints on the murder weapon?"

Hyde blinked twice, "Y-Yes, but-"

"Also, the security footage, you said that it showed nobody entered the house at the time of the murder? I'm sure if he was so worried about his art, he would have cameras inside the house. If so, there should be footage of the alleged murder. Why is there no footage of the murder? Are there no cameras in the house or were they all off?"

"A-Actually, the cameras inside of the house were having electrical issues. The wire appears to have been chewed through by the rat that was fried in the yard. The last footage from the cameras inside come from two weeks ago, supposedly, that's when the camera went out."

Che leaned back against the wall, lifting fingers to count as he made his list, "So, the defendant called the police without wiping his fingerprints off the murder weapon, you've no footage of the death of the victim, who was killed with a knife that was already in the house, and your initial investigation was a suicide investigation? Tell me, at what point, other than the point you saw the defendant leaving the mansion on the security footage, did you begin to think this was a murder investigation?"

"When the defendant's prints were found on the murder weapon." Hyde said defensively, "That seemed suspicious."

"You mean the prints found… over the blood?"

"OBJECTION!" Franziska shouted, "What are you asserting? Surely you aren't claiming the defendant just removed the knife, because the knife was found stuck in the victim."

Che shook his head, then used his hand to wipe his smooth hair out of his face, "Yes… but tell me, detective. I'm fairly well-acquainted with Interpol's lab work, and your notes comment on this, but I'd like to hear it from the horse's mouth. Were any of the defendant's fingerprints found underneath the blood on the murder weapon?"

Hyde suddenly looked a lot weaker, "W-Well, no…"

Che smirked, "Ah… well… if that's all, then I'm done with my cross-examination."

Franziska squinted, she'd never seen a defense prod a witness for details then not use them. The air around Che did not say he was anywhere near foolish. Edgeworth seemed to agree, "He's playing the long game… this is what he did to win his trials for Moldova. Details that were undeniably related to the case eventually came together to form a rock solid defense. Be wary, Franziska… he's already planning his assault…"

Franziska lifted her chin, "If the defense is done, the prosecution would like to call its next witness."

Che nodded, "Go ahead. Might I take a guess that the next witness is perhaps… Arte Zest? The art dealer that helped the victim procure the two paintings he purchased from the defendant."

Franziska's crossed arms revealed her attempt to contain her shock, "Bailiff, escort the witness in!"

Hyde was escorted out as a thin man with thickly-gelled hair walked in, "Hello! 'Ow may I 'elp you today, sirs and madams?"

Franziska gritted her teeth, "Name and occupation."

"Oui! I am Arte Zest, an art dealer."

Franziska opened her eyes, "Now, is it correct that you sold the two paintings to a Cole V. Bean?"

"Oui. It was I that did it."

"And both of these paintings were painted by the defendant?"

"Oui."

"OBJECTION!" Che's shockingly loud scream was only made scarier by his calm and collected face, "Witness… you're an expert when it comes to art, correct?"

Zest got excited, "Oh, oui! It makes me very good at my job!"

"When the defendant gave you the paintings, did you get a good look at them?"

Zest shook his head, "No, sir."

Che pointed to Franziska, "Would the prosecution please provide the photo of the two paintings it has logged into evidence for the witness to look at?"

Franziska pulled out the image and held it still, "What does this have to do with the trial?"

Che crossed his arms, "I have reason to believe that one of these paintings was not painted by the defendant, and that he falsely claimed that he painted it."

"Is murder not a big enough charge for you? Do you really need to add fraud to that list?"

"Not add, replace. Your Honor, the prosecution's case rests upon the paintings as motive for the alleged murder. The idea is that the victim burned the painting that was painted by the defendant. However, if the painting hadn't been painted by the defendant, this motive vanishes."

The judge looked to Franziska, "Is this true?"

Franziska gritted her teeth. How had Che figured out her strategy? How had she overlooked the fact the paintings weren't painted by the same person? All of these questions swirled around in her head as she held the photograph out, "Witness. Look and tell us the truth."

Zest looked at the picture and his hair stood on end, "Oh no! I've sold under a lie! These paintings were painted by two different people! The brush strokes are all wrong! And the shading is so different! How could I have let this happen?!"

Che's smile then grew even wider as his plans came to light, "So… now that we've established that the prosecution's case isn't totally solid anymore… I have a witness who can add a little clarity."

Edgeworth groaned, "He's about to start playing with fire…"

Che pulled all of his hair back to reveal his serious and stern expression, "I'm calling Darren Back to the stand!"

"OBJECTION!" Franziska slammed her counter, "The defendant is the last person who should be on the stand! Who knows what lies he'll tell?!"

"OBJECTION!" Che's expression was statue-like, unmoving and tough, "Your honor, if the defendant lies, I'm certain that the prosecution and the defense are obligated to expose those lies. Though he does have a personal investment in the result of this trial, any lying he's caught doing will land him in prison for perjury. Tell me, Prosecutor Franziska Von Karma, perhaps this perfect thought didn't occur to you, but if I were on trial, I'D BE TRYING TO AVOID PRISON TIME, WOULDN'T YOU?!"

Franziska gritted her teeth as her head flung backward, "Ugh!"

Edgeworth felt his spine tingle. It was logical on levels he couldn't deny, "I don't know if we're going to be able to discredit the defendant solely based on the fact he's the defendant…"

Franziska wasn't about to give up so easily, "OBJECTION! If the defendant believes that he'll get away with perjury and murder, he'll lie regardless!"

Che crossed his arms, "If getting away with murder was his primary objective, I would assume calling the police would be the last thing he would do. Oh wait, he did call the police… and WAITED FOR THEM TO ARRIVE!"

"That doesn't mean he's innocent!"

Che smirked as his hands rested at his sides, "Doesn't make him guilty, either. Your Honor, the decision is yours to make. Honestly, if the defendant speaks and each word he says is thoroughly examined, that would mean that all lies would fall to the wayside, correct? Picked out by the prosecution and the defense? Would that leave anything but the truth?"

The judge was silent for a long moment before he opened his eyes, "If any other attorney were to ask me those questions, I would have to question their ability to keep the facts straight. I've seen you pick your defendant apart, force him to admit every transgression of the law he'd committed, and then proven that he was innocent of the single crime he'd been tried of. God have mercy upon him… the defendant may take the stand to testify."

Franziska looked to Edgeworth, "What is he talking about?"

Edgeworth was shaking, "This was the tactic he used to win the Moldova case… or one of them, anyway. He wasn't in a court with a jury system, either."

With his face fully exposed and his hair neatly tucked behind his ears, Che stood upright and held his chiseled chin level, his posture mirroring the delicate balance Franziska's case was hanging in, "Darren Back… please take the stand."

Edgeworth clenched his fist, "Franziska, there's no doubt that he prepped the defendant for this very moment. Every word that comes out of his mouth is going to be well-scripted. Tread carefully, he's bound to have set up at least one trap and there's no telling if it's a jack-in-the-box or a landmine."

Back took the stand, looking much more scared than he had just a few moments ago. His face was white as a sheet as the judge spoke, "Your name and occupation have already been accounted for, the defense may now begin its questioning."

Che stared blankly at Back, as though he saw straight through the frightened man, "I'll make this short. What did you do on the night of the murder?"

Back swallowed hard as sweat started pouring off of him, "I-I was inside Mr. Bean's mansion."

Che didn't miss a beat between questions, "Were you angry with him?"

"F-F-Furious."

"How did Mr. Bean die?"

"H-H-He stabbed himself with a knife from his k-k-kitchen. I was in the room when he did it."

"Did he say why he killed himself?"

Back paused for a second, "H-He said if he had to live with the memory of such a horrid painting from such a pathetic fraud, he'd rather burn it and make sure nobody else had to endure the fate of looking at such an awful painting."

"That explains why one of the paintings was burned. Did you witness the other one being burned?"

"Yes… because I burned it, out of anger. I hated that painting for existing."

"I see. And after this whole event, you called the police?"

"Yes. It took me a minute, but I got ahold of myself and called the police right away."

"No further questions."

The judge looked to Franziska, "The prosecution may now cross-examine the witness."

Franziska steeled her nerve, there wasn't a question that she could ask without leaving even the smallest room for error. This testimony wasn't dangerous because it was specific, it was purposely ambiguous. That couldn't be good, "Defendant, you said you were inside the victim's mansion at the time of the murder. Elaborate as to why you were there."

Back nodded shakily, "I-I received a call from Mr. Bean telling me to come see him."

Che held up a document, "Phone records and a recording made by 911 emergency responders confirm this. To be precise, the victim said 'Mr. Back, I've got something important to tell you.', and the defendant said nothing before hanging up."

The judge raised his eyebrow, "Wait… the victim called the defendant to the scene of the crime?!"

Che nodded, "That's correct, your Honor."

Franziska wanted to object, but she couldn't. She had been planning to use that detail to her advantage, even logged evidence into the court record. Now all she could do was bite her tongue and hope she could still overcome the growing doubt in the judge's mind, "I see… the prosecution may continue its cross-examination."

Franziska gritted her teeth, it was time for a more tactful approach, "Darren Back, you are an artist, are you not?"

"HOLD IT!" Che shouted, "What does this have to do with the case? We've already established that the defendant is an artist, or did you have a brain lapse?"

Franziska's eye twitched as Edgeworth held her riding crop still beneath the counter, "It's got to do with motive. Burning a piece of art that took countless hours to complete and was one of his proudest creations is enough to anger any artist, is it not?"

Che shook his head, "Then let's answer this question. Mr. Back, which painting was burned first? The one you painted or the one that was painted by another artist?"

Franziska felt her heart drop as Back spoke, "The one that I didn't paint…"

Che winked at her, "Sorry, prosecutor, but your theory is incorrect."

Franziska cleared her throat and decided to get as specific as she possibly could, with evidence to back her up, "Defendant, you say that the victim stabbed himself. That, in and of itself is not unbelievable, despite how far-fetched the reason for this suicide sounds. But do you honestly expect us to believe, that after the first, fatal stab which killed the victim instantly, he inflicted the other six stab wounds to himself?!"

"OBJECTION!" Che cried out, seemingly the only person not surprised by the statement, "Your Honor… my witness has a confession to make on this matter. He would have made it sooner, but I thought it best that he only be tried for one crime at a time. Keeps things clean and simple. Mr. Back, please explain to the prosecution why she is both right and wrong."

Back cleared his throat, "Y-You're right. The painting he burned… it meant a lot to me, because it was painted by a dear friend I had to part ways with. When he said those things… I was devastated, confused, angry, and I wasn't sure how to respond. Then… he just pulled out the knife and plunged it into his chest, laughing like a madman… I was trying to find my wits when my emotions got the better of me… I got angry that he would say such things about someone so precious about me… so I took the knife and… before I knew it I was covered in blood. I realized what I was doing and I called the police immediately."

The judge was in shock, "YOU'RE ADMITTING TO DESECRATING A BODY AND A CRIME SCENE?!"

Che cleared his throat, "Desecrating a body, yes. But it's only a crime scene as long as it's a murder scene, which it wasn't at the time as no crime was committed. Granted, desecrating a body is a despicable crime, but it isn't murder, nor is it obstruction of justice so long as he informs the legal system of his actions, a duty he has just fulfilled successfully."

Franziska grabbed both ends of her riding crop and bent it just about as far as it would go, "You seriously expect me to believe such an obvious lie?!"

Che's serious look finally broke into a very small smirk, "Oh? Is it a lie? My witness, who has been nothing but credible this far and whose statements I can support using evidence, has confessed to something terrible. He's deeply regretful to have caused all this trouble, but sometimes people slip up… that is… unless you have evidence to the contrary?"

Franziska wasn't sure if she could grit her teeth any harder when she realized that this was the moment that Che had been waiting for. The one thing she hadn't thought of. The only scenario in which her forethought had been clouded. The only case… in which the defendant could possibly be innocent.

The judge looked to her with a raised eyebrow, "Miss Von Karma?"

Franziska looked to Edgeworth, who was rubbing his chin, "Miles Edgeworth…"

Edgeworth looked through the evidence frantically, "Hm... I can't find anything here he hasn't used to help his case… if everything he says adds up, then this case is as good as over…"

The judge held up his gavel, "Well then, if there are no further objections… I hereby declare the defendant-"

"OBJECTION!"

Franziska looked to Edgeworth, only to find him staring back at her.

The judge was astonished.

Detective Hyde couldn't believe his ears.

The defendant felt his heart stop.

Che smiled as he eyed Franziska over his pointed finger, "We're not done yet."

The judge was sweating, "E-Excuse me?"

Che's smile vanished as he turned to face the judge, "Your Honor, if there was one thing I could never do, it's leave a matter unsettled. True, my case looks invincible, but it hinges on facts, not all of which have been checked thoroughly enough for my liking. The defense requests that the prosecution be given one more day to investigate. Now that all the right questions have been asked, they need proper answers. Please, your Honor, if for no other reason than for the sake of certainty. I would not ask that these resources be used if I were sure."

The judge blinked twice, "I-If you insist, Che. Does the prosecution have any objections?"

Franziska felt an anger deep inside her that demanded she refuse any sort of aid from the enemy. Part of her wanted to kill him for putting her in such a humiliating position. Then, there was the part of her that wanted to win more. It was that part that allowed her to shock Edgeworth and hold her tongue, "No, your honor."

"Good. Then this trial will be suspended until tomorrow. Court adjourned!"

* * *

-Location: Courthouse, Hallway-

-Date: June 20th, 2014-

-Time: 4:15 P.M.-

Franziska's eye was twitching, "I. Will. Destroy. Him."

Edgeworth stood a good distance away from her, just in case she went into a frenzy.

The moment the door opened, Darren Back was being escorted out of the lobby by police officers, and he looked extremely angry about it. Edgeworth was the only one who took notice of it as Franziska stomped over to the lobby's doorway with fire in her eyes. The moment she saw a head of red hair poke itself out of the door, she brought down her riding crop, "HOW DARE YOU?!"

The riding crop stopped as it made contact with flesh, but not in the way Franziska had been expecting. The middle of the crop had been caught by Che's hand, "Please… I don't want to talk right now."

Franziska pulled her crop back and then bent it with all her might, "HOW DARE YOU HUMILIATE ME IN COURT LIKE THAT?!"

Che looked up from the floor to reveal the tear tracks staining his face, along with the fresh tears pooling in his eyes. His voice was cracking like glass underneath a boulder, "I-I… I'm sorry…. p-please… I need to g-go now…"

Che walked past Franziska, who was now more shocked than angry. She looked to Edgeworth and whipped him for standing there with his jaw hanging like a simpleton, "Don't just stand there like a fool with your foolish jaw foolishly hanging open! Explain why he was so upset!"

Edgeworth gritted his teeth, "Why do you think I know if you don't?!"

Franziska prepared her crop for another swing, "I didn't ask for excuses!"

"Why don't you ask him?!"

Franziska turned to detective Hyde, "Get our lead expert to perform tests and check everything that he claimed today. I don't want a single thing overlooked. Get every detail checked. I expect to see those reports on my desk tomorrow morning and a witness from our scientists performing the tests. I have some investigating of my own to do."

* * *

-Location: Gatewater Hotel, Hallway, 3rd Floor-

-Date: June 20th, 2014-

-Time: 10:58 P.M.-

"Why am I here?" Edgeworth complained.

Franziska responded with a quick whipping before she answered, "Silence! You failed to aid me in my case earlier, so now you're paying for that!"

Edgeworth decided he would ask a more logical question, "Ow! So… then what are we hoping to get out of this? He's made two phone calls in the park and then he came here. We've been here for nearly an hour now. Are we sure he hasn't simply gone to sleep?"

The door opened as Franziska pushed Edgeworth out of view, "Hide!"

Their eyes peeked around the corner to see that Che was no longer in a grey suit, but in a very colorful new outfit. A shirt that looked to be both tie-died and paint splattered with all colors of the rainbow, pants that were checker-patterned with equally bizarre color choices, shoes that looked like a rainbow threw up on them, and a solid black had that had all of his hair tucked underneath it. Che then reached for his phone and dialed a number quickly, "Hey, you there? Yeah, I'm still coming tonight. No. I'm not going to talk about it. Just make sure you have extra stocked up, okay? No. Yes. No, it's not for them. Then bill me for it! You know I can pay for it, so why are you even asking? See you soon."

Franziska raised her eyebrow, "He's going out to meet people… dressed like that?"

Edgeworth sweated, "I fear we might be a tad overdressed to follow him…"

Franziska grabbed her phone and dialed up a number she thought she'd never want to call, "Fear not. I know someone who will help us blend in with this odd fashion. They live nearby, as well, so I can go change while you follow him."

Now Edgeworth wasn't sure what he was more worried about. Where Che would take him or how Franziska would arrive.

* * *

-Location: Where the Beat Is, Entrance-

-Date: June 20th, 2014-

-Time: 11:26-

Edgeworth raised his eyebrow, "Now… what would a self-respecting defense attorney be doing in a night club?"

"Possibly trying to evade a self-respecting prosecutor." Edgeworth turned around to see something he thought he would never see. Not only had Franziska cut her hair, she was wearing clothes that matched Che's. Down to the last seemingly-random paint drop.

Edgeworth had to grab his chest as he felt his heart start to go, "What on Earth?!"

Franziska crossed her arms, "I know. I told her that the hat was supposed to be solid black, but there's this damned white check mark on the front…"

Edgeworth shook his head, "Franziska… you do realize that you have to be in court… tomorrow?"

Franziska smiled, "Fear not. I have ensured that if I am seen, I will be unrecognizable." She pulled out a pair of shades and put them on her face, revealing the lenses had the words 'PARTY HARD' written across them, "Nobody would recognize me now. Not even papa."

"Oh… if he did, he wouldn't have a daughter to recognize anymore."

Franziska groaned, "You are lucky I do not have my riding crop on me. Otherwise, you would be whipped for that. Papa will not see me in this and I've taken notice that he intends to tell me to cut my hair when I get back from my case. I found it in his notes he wrote to himself. So I'm killing two birds with one stone. A perfect plan, as per usual."

Edgeworth crossed his arms, "And how am I to ensure your safety in that building?"

Franziska waved her hand, "I need no protection. Besides, my friend also has a habit of watching crime rates, and the chances that a crime would occur here at night is slim to none. Besides, you'll be waiting outside for me with a phone on which you can call the police at any time."

Edgeworth was shocked that she could justify it to herself, "What drugs was your friend doing at the time?"

Franziska was not amused, "Stay here, Miles Edgeworth. Some of us are willing to take risks in order to make sure our victory is perfect. Now stay here while my perfect plan takes effect."

Edgeworth was speechless as he watched Franziska walk up to the bouncers.

Where her brain had gone was the only question he could hold in his mind long enough to contemplate anymore.

Franziska crossed her arms as she looked at the bouncers, "I am here for a good time."

The bouncer blinked, "Your name, miss?"

Franziska put one hand out, "Franziska Von Karma."

The bouncer checked the list, then held his hand out, "I need to stamp your hand so the guys inside know you didn't sneak in."

Franziska held her hand up, "Then please, by all means, I'd like a stamp."

The other bouncer shifted his eyebrows, "Um… this is your first time here, isn't it?"

Franziska looked at the eagle stamp upon her hand, "How did you deduce that?"

He looked at his phone, "Says here that you're a famous lawyer… maybe you're here to see Che?"

The other bouncer laughed, "Che? Really? You think she'd be here to see Che?"

Franziska raised her eyebrow, "Who is this Che?"

The bouncer with the phone smiled, "He's a regular here. Big-time defense attorney. He tries to keep it on the down-low, but most of his biggest fans are regulars here. They'd kill just to get up on the stage with him."

"Stage?"

The bouncer without a phone smirked, "Just wait for the redhead to get up on stage. You'll see what he's talking about. You're in for a good time, lady."

Franziska wondered what they were talking about. Then again, she couldn't even keep track of everything as she stepped into the club. It was hard enough trying to navigate the floor as the flashing lights kept making things difficult to see, but then there was the ungodly loud music. Music which not only shook every single body in the building, but was booming from the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. Franziska was barely able to find herself a table to sit at between the sweat-soaked patrons and trying not to trip over her own feet.

So when she finally spotted the male sporting an attire identical to her own, she wasn't sure if she was ready to follow him. Especially since he seemed to be gracefully teleporting around, his steps unnaturally well timed to both the flash of the lights and the beat of the music. Still, Franziska had never given up on anything in her life and she wasn't about to start then.

Once more unto the breach.

By the time she got to where he had been in the middle of the crowd, Che had made it up onto the stage. Sporting a pair of shades that also read 'PARTY HARD', the only difference in their outfits was the fact that Che looked VERY comfortable rocking his, while Franziska was barely able to stand in hers.

Che grabbed a mike and the blaring music was silenced. If you had been standing in the room, you would have heard nothing and your body would feel very numb. Che scanned the crowd as the lights turned on and he found his next 'lucky' guest. After a long wait to ensure everybody's hearing had returned and that he had their attention, he put his mike to his lips. His voice filled the room, shaking all who heard it, "Ladies and gentleman, tonight is Freak Friday. As you know, this is the third Friday of June, which means that tonight Che will be rocking this house."

Cheers loud enough to just barely be audible after his speech filled the air. Franziska was trying to understand why.

Che could see her confusion through her shades and decided to clear it up, "As you all know, I do this because I believe in making this art known. This art is dancing. Some of you know I wasn't always the best or even good… but I learned. So tonight I'm gonna teach someone who doesn't believe they can rock it how they can blow themselves away. Will the woman who is dressed exactly like me, except for her hat, please come up to the stage?"

The crowd parted, making a path between Che's finger and Franziska, who was looking around. Her glances were short-lived, as the crowd pushed her up to the stage. None of them could even hear her protesting, "Let go of me! Stop touching me! Unhand me this instant!"

Che was wearing a devious smirk as he watched her being brought to the stage. When she got there, he held the mike away from his lips and smirked at her, "Guess you got all your ducks in a row, huh?"

Franziska crossed her arms, "I've no intention of dancing like a fool for a bunch of foolish fools."

Che stood close to her as he pulled down his shades to look her in the eye, "Either you try or I'll make sure the footage from this performance gets leaked onto the internet and emailed to everyone you know."

Franziska's blood started to boil, "You wouldn't dare!"

Che shrugged, "You sure? How often have you seen me bluff?"

Franziska gritted her teeth, "I hate you and tomorrow I will destroy you."

Che smiled, "I'm sure you will. For now, just smile and let the music make it feel right."

Franziska puffed up her cheeks, "I highly doubt that will happen…"

Che put the mike to his lip, "Alright folks, we got a live one here! Says she can't dance worth a lick!"

The crowd started cheering.

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you! I'm a little deaf from prolonged awesomeness flowing in my ears!"

The crowd got even wilder, leaving Franziska wondering if he was joking or not.

Che seemed delighted, "Alright! Alright! Time to get our delicate flower here a little time in the sun. Now, we're gonna start with an easy one. It's just four steps in total, but it's a favorite. It's called the Jet Juke!"

The crowd started to calm down as Che spread his feet to shoulder width. They all did as he did. Like an army saluting an undisputed commander.

Che looked to Franziska, "Start with your feet like this."

Franziska put her feet into position, "This is foolish…"

Che smiled, "She's warming up to it! Great, now hold your hands open like this."

Che held his hands forward and backward, causing them to run perpendicular to the line his feet created. Again, the crowd followed his instructions without question.

Franziska did the same, "Okay… now what, you fool?"

Che pulled the mike back to his face, "She says I'm cute. Now, for the second step, you sway to the left and right, in that order. Don't get them mixed up or you might bump into the person next to you."

With a quick demonstration from hundreds of synchronized people, Franziska was able to copy their movements.

. As this went on, Franziska was shocked by both the ease with which the crowd followed Che's instructions and the ease with which she was able to copy his moves. In a few short minutes, Franziska found herself performing the moves in sequence and finding herself dancing.

When Che finally saw her doing the moves, his smile widened, "Alright… now let's add in the music! Hit the lights and let's remind these people why this club has this name!"

The music shook the air and Franziska tried to keep her moves straight as Che continued to rock out with the crowd in perfect synch. The pair manage to create a serviceable show that had the crowd jumping for a solid half-hour. At the end of that half-hour, though, Franziska fell over, her legs cramping and unable to support her. Luckily for her, Che was in the middle of a knee-slide and caught her perfectly. She groaned as she felt her legs convulsing, "Agh! Damn you! My l-legs…!"

Che smiled as he held her in his arms, "Don't worry, I've got you." He held the mike to his lips one last time, "Alright, folks! Looks like our dancing queen has partied until she dropped. I'm gonna make sure she's okay. In the meantime, party on!"

The crowd did just that as Che hopped off-stage with Franziska in hand. Somehow navigating through the crowd with ease, he made it all the way to the table and sat her down in a chair. Somehow, he could hear her, "Why did you trick me into dancing until I couldn't stand?! You think I won't still crush you in court?!"

Che shook his head, "No, I just wanted you to dance."

"Dance…? What sort of foolish fool lays out a plan just to have a person dance?"

Che frowned, then forced a smile, "Well… It may not mean much to you… but dancing has been a dream of mine for quite some time. Even when I was a little boy, I always dreamed that I would be a famous dancer one day. I've met people who've never felt that they could dance before. Then they tried it and they found that they loved it. Tell me, if you really loved something enough that you wanted that to be your life, how could you want to keep that all to yourself?"

"You… are strange."

Che furrowed his brow, "You've never loved something?"

Franziska crossed her arms, "I am a Von Karma. I have no time for frivolous activities. Perfection is all I am concerned with."

"What about being a perfect dancer?"

Franziska squinted at him, "I have no need of your foolish judgement. To adhere to the words of a fool is to foolishly listen to a foolishly foolish fool."

Che crossed his arms, "Then would you say that you're a perfect dancer?"

Franziska held her nose up, "Yes, I would."

"Would you say you are a perfect liar?"

Franziska put her fist on the table, "A Von Karma does not need to lie."

"So, you aren't a perfect liar?"

Franziska crossed her arms again, "I tire of your foolishness."

"You want me to shut up?"

"That might be nice."

Che leaned forward with a smile, "Then promise me a date. You and me, we'll go out and try everything that I can think of until we find something you love. Promise me that you will and I'll never tell anyone about our little meeting her tonight."

Franziska crossed her arms, "Blackmail? I should have expected it from a defense attorney."

Che frowned, "Okay… you want an even playing field? I'll give you one. I know about your little trip to this club… I'll let you in on a secret I wouldn't want getting out." Che reached into his pocket and slid a receipt across the table, "This is a purchase that I made tonight. I bought these because my other ones I had were recently broken."

Franziska looked at the list on the receipt and she was shocked, "Oh… goodness… I didn't think you the type to break wooden paddles on people…"

Che crossed his arms, "I'm not…"

"Then why are you buying a bunch of tools that would be used to beat someone?"

Che pulled his hat down to hide his face, "I don't buy them… to beat other people up…"

Franziska squinted, "I'm confused…."

Che scratched the back of his head, "When I was two… I fell and hit my head… and my brain got messed up…"

"You don't seem to have brain damage."

Che looked up at her and removed his shades, "Have you ever put your hand on a hot grill and enjoyed it?"

"Um… n-no."

Che looked down at his shades, "Good for you. My brain is screwed up, so my most often called number is usually whatever hospital happens to be in the area."

Franziska looked at his legs, "So… do your legs hurt right now?"

Che nodded, "Oh, yeah. Tremendously. I never stretch. I wake up sore most days. It hurts like hell, but it also feels awesome."

"Wait… you feel pain… but you like it?"

Che groaned, "No… it's just…. when my brain gets signals for pain stimuli, the pleasure center of my brain gets lit up as well. So… pain doesn't equal pleasure… it just gets added on."

"So… you're a masochist?"

Che flared his nostrils at the word, trying to hide his rage, "Not. By. Choice."

Franziska grimaced, "That… sounds like an unpleasant affliction."

Che put his shades back on, "It's not enough that I had to be an academic genius in order to have an education or that I had to start college before I even started puberty, not to mention the fact that I had to set aside everything else that I wanted in my life to get here, including any form of social life. No, that unsaid pressure gets to be at bare minimum above average also has to extend to me pretending to be a normal person at all times. I mean… the way you just looked at me said it all. The rest of my life doesn't matter, I get one label that anybody can reach for that they can slap on me. No facts, no personal connections, nothing I do will ever be enough. Nothing is going to change the fact… that I'm… you already said it, I'm not saying it again."

Franziska was quiet for a long moment. She could think of a similar person with a similar label. One that dictated their life as well. That label was 'Von Karma'. She slid the receipt across the table, "I don't want this. You keep it."

A tear ran down Che's face as he looked at it, "I don't want it either…"

Franziska ripped it up, "There. Is that better?"

Che wiped his tear, "Thank you. You know, when people told me about the prodigy prosecutor, I was worried."

"That you would lose?"

"That she would show up alone. Being the best means being alone most of the time." Che smiled then, "But you had what's-his-face with you, the other prosecutor. He seemed like a nice guy."

"Miles Edgeworth is more like a brother to me than anything else. Considering he is actually my adopted brother, that is probably a good thing."

"You're adopted brother came to see your trial?"

"Of course he did. I go to his trials when my schedule is not too busy."

Che smiled, "I wish my siblings were like that…"

"You have siblings?"

"Yeah… well… it's complicated. My little sister is still in school and my older brother… let's not talk about my brother."

Franziska tried to imagine what an over-achieving, more-handsome, and older version of Che would be like, "You hate living in his shadow?"

"I wish." Che scoffed, "He won the lottery, then he blew all his money and now he can't even hold down a real job. I bought and pay for the house he lives in, which he needs, because everybody else he's taken advantage of can't support him anymore. The last time I asked him to pay rent, he couldn't, because he blew all his money on food… the day after I brought him a month's worth of groceries."

Franziska shuddered at the mere thought of such stupidity, "Oh dear…"

Che shook his head, "No, I'm not talking about him. I already have to worry about Darren."

"You're worried about him? You already got him off the hook, if you were worried, why didn't you just get him the not guilty verdict?"

Che looked at his hands, "Because I couldn't answer those questions I asked you. I still can't. My lab results don't come in until tomorrow. If Darren's telling the truth, he'll be let go. If he didn't… he doesn't deserve to."

"Odd… most people won't take a defense attorney with that mentality."

Che didn't look up, "Darren's a friend who knows that I'm the best… but I don't let criminals walk. I only charge for cases I lose and if he thinks that he can take advantage of me… just because he's one of my few friends… no… not in the courtroom."

Franziska felt her heart sink, "Your client is your friend?"

"I um… I got lost for a while in college. Darren helped me find my way. Now… I'm just hoping that he's lost… otherwise, he's trying to get away with murder."

"That… is quite a lot to deal with…"

Che nodded, "Yeah… sorry you had to listen to all of it… thank you. It's nice to get it all off my chest."

Franziska waved her hand, "Think nothing of it."

Che blinked, "There anything you want to get off your mind?"

"This ridiculous hat."

Che laughed, "I meant that you wanted to say."

"I know what you meant. I have nothing to say."

"Oh really? Nothing at all? There's no detective that got picked apart in court? No bumbling investigator that screwed something up? Nobody who wasn't there when they should have been?"

"A Von Karma does not whine."

Che leaned back in his chair, "Oh… I see. What else does a Von Karma not do?"

"Anything foolish."

"So dancing?"

"That's not what I meant-"

Che nodded, "I know what you meant. Do they sing?"

"If the occasion is appropriate."

"Do they watch movies?"

"If those movies have any value to them."

"Do they prepare for trial so they can spend the rest of the night off?"

"Of course."

Che stood up, "Then how about I show you an old movie? It's considered to be the greatest of its kind. Why not learn a little something from the best?"

Franziska checked her watch to see that it was nearly twelve-thirty, "How long is it?"

Che shook his head, "Not very. A friend lives nearby and keeps a copy of it. After that, I'll take you home."

Franziska thought it over, "A friend of mine will be accompanying us."

"Sure thing. I'm sure Edgeworth wouldn't mind. It's just a short walk from here."

* * *

-Location: Jack's Punch Shack-

-Date: June 21st, 2014-

-Time: 12:32 A.M.-

Edgeworth was skeptical, "Why are we in a boxing gym? This is hardly the appropriate atmosphere for cinema."

"How about you reserve judgement until you get all the facts? You don't even know what we're watching yet." Che pointed out as he sat Franziska down in the center of the ring, "Edgeworth, please just lay down in the center of the ring and we'll get this show started."

Edgeworth looked to Franziska as he followed his instructions, "Really, what do you see in him?"

Franziska crossed her arms, "He informed me that this was the best cinema of its kind and that it would be rude of me to judge it before I knew what it was. I agreed with him. You're far too narrow-minded Miles Edgeworth. You should broaden your horizons."

Edgeworth was now wondering how long it took him to hypnotize Franziska. His reaction was cut short as Che slid into the center of the ring beside them with a remote in his hand, "Alright, let's get this started!"

He pressed a button and a projector cast an image of two men standing in a ring, facing each other. Franziska raised her eyebrow, "Who are they?"

Che pointed at the larger man, "That guy is George Foreman, at the time, he was the champion of boxing and the little guy is Muhammad Ali, the former champ. He had his title taken away when he refused to go fight a war that he didn't believe in. After his title got taken away, Foreman, who you can clearly see is strong enough to punch out a bull, beat the guy who beat Ali like it was nothing. So when Ali, who was known for his speed and skill, came to take back his title, nobody knew which way the fight would go."

Edgeworth squinted, "Well, logic would suggest that the man with much greater strength would win. Even if he only hits the little guy half as many times as the little guy hits him, he's still gaining more ground."

Franziska frowned, "Nonsense. I know little about Muhammad Ali, but from what I know, he was well-known for fooling his opponents into swinging at him and avoiding their hits. Even if he was hit, the idea was to wear his opponents out over a long time and then finish them off."

Che smirked, "That's called rope-a-dope. This fight was before he really coined that phrase. Most people sided with Edgeworth's logic on that day. Let's just see how it goes."

After the first round, Edgeworth was grimacing, "Goodness… it looked like they were both just hammering away at each other…"

Franziska was surprised either of them was still standing, "How do they stand after those violent hits?"

Che felt his heart racing, "Oh, you ain't seen nothing yet. Ali's just getting warmed up."

The second round left the two prosecutors even more baffled. Edgeworth voiced his opinion, "This is brutal! Why are we watching this?"

Che paused the scene and pointed at Ali, "Because this is possibly one of the few men in the world that gave up almost everything else he had for something he loved. Ali will always be remembered as the champ, and this right here is one of his finest fights. The time, effort, and strategy came together to make this match."

Franziska raised her eyebrow as she noticed Ali's foot stumble for just a second, "Does he win? He's taking an awful lot of hits to his upper body…"

Che pressed play, "Let's see."

As the rounds went on, the two prosecutors took up their favorites. Edgeworth held up his fists as Foreman got his blows in and Franziska lifted her head off the ground as Ali threw his punches into Foreman's face. Che could feel the air in the room heating up as round five rolled around. Foreman just kept hammering away at Ali's ribs, causing Edgeworth to grin as Franziska started to sweat. As the round reached thirty seconds remaining, Edgeworth smirked, "You see? In a matter of brute force, overwhelming strength has its advantages."

Franziska crossed her arms, "Yet, Ali is still standing. George Foreman is moving much slower now, don't you think, Miles Edgeworth? His sloppiness will be his undoing." Ali proved her point as he began unloading a barrage of punches onto Foreman, "Ha! You see! Technique and speed!"

Round six would show Foreman slowly getting more sluggish as Edgeworth began groaning, "What happened to the man who walked into the ring?"

Franziska giggled, "It would appear that Muhammad Ali happened."

Round seven rolled around with Foreman's sluggishness getting worse and Ali getting a few more punches in. The bell sounded before anyone even realized it was over. Edgeworth was flabbergasted, "How is this possible?! The man is the champion! How did he get there if he can't even knock out a man that's so much smaller?"

Franziska smirked, "The bigger question should be, if Ali managed to take the championship before and didn't lose it without legal involvement, what was George Foreman's plan for beating him? Wild swings with a lot of power seems to be ineffective, and that's why Ali is winning."

Round eight came in and Foreman's shakiness made Edgeworth wonder if he even stood a chance anymore. Foreman's solid blows that followed started to look good and Ali didn't look to be taking them so well, but then after Ali hung out on the rope for a few seconds, then in a whirlwind of punches, Ali made the big man hit the floor.

Franziska felt her spine tingle as the referee declared Ali the winner. Then she sat up and put her finger right in Edgeworth's face, "Ha! Take that! You were wrong!"

Edgeworth gritted his teeth as he knew Franziska would never let him live the moment down. He looked up to see that Che was no longer laying on the mat. Instead, his phone was left in his place. Edgeworth reached over and picked it up, seeing only that he had received a text that read 'N'. That was when the two sat up and heard the sound of punching.

They got up and followed an open doorway to find Che, having shed his shirt and accessories in order to start pounding his fists against what looked like an ordinary sandbag. What was odd was that Che's fists were covered in blood. His was the purest expression of anger as he continued to hammer away at the bag. Were it capable of speaking, the bag may have begged for mercy. Che, on the other hand, was silent as he continued to pound away, ignoring the blood as it flew from his knuckles.

Franziska rushed inside and grabbed his arm, "Che! Stop!"

Che stopped, then turned to see the fear in her eyes as she looked at him, "F-Franziska?"

She grabbed his wrists and held his knuckles up, "You're bleeding, you idiot! You need to bandage this up before it gets worse."

Che was still for a moment before he walked to the nearest bench and grabbed a first-aid kit out from under it, "You're right. I'm sorry I left in the middle of the match. You two should probably get back home now, the trial's tomorrow."

Franziska sat beside him, "Not until you go home. You shouldn't stay in this gym tonight."

Che wanted to say something, but he bit his tongue. Franziska knew the truth and she knew that would be what was best for him. Staying where he was would only lead to him passing out from blood loss. Che couldn't argue with her, "A-… Alright. I'm staying at the Gatewater Hotel on the 3rd floor."

Edgeworth cleared his throat, "I know the way. I'll drive."

"Thank you."

* * *

-Gatewater Hotel: 3rd floor-

-Date: June 21st, 2014-

-Time: 1:06-

Che looked at his fists as he walked through the elevator door. When was the last time he'd let himself do something like that? It had been a long time. Normally, he shunned his anger and worked on his wits to right the wrongs he came upon.

But every now and then… he got too angry to hold back.

He just needed to be angry.

As bloody and horrible and wonderful as that felt.

Even though all that would follow that was a period of self-loathing and shame.

He just needed to let it go sometimes.

But this time was different.

Someone had stopped him.

Che looked back at the bluenette that had kept him out of the hospital, "Thank you… see you tomorrow, Franziska."

She smiled confidently as she crossed her arms, "A pity that I will have to destroy you. Goodnight, Che… what is your last name, anyway?"

Che smiled as he closed the door, "Don't have one. It's just Che."

As he walked over to his bed, Che was still reeling.

Franziska Von Karma… what had she done to him?


End file.
